


Five Times Jim Helps His Crew

by annieapple24



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, ben sulu/hikaru sulu - Freeform, chekov just wants to get laid, could be platonic if you're not into that, ends spirky, fives times plus one time fic, jim is a good captain, mckirk bromance - Freeform, more of a gen fic than a spirk fic though, some scotty/keenser if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieapple24/pseuds/annieapple24
Summary: Five times Jim Kirk helps his crew and one time he lets himself be helped. A cute 5 times/1 time fic for your happy enterprise family needs.





	Five Times Jim Helps His Crew

**Author's Note:**

> First Star Trek fic. Did so much research for this, but please tell me if I got anything wrong. Some of it I made up for this fic. Let me know what you think!

1\. Chekov

 

Jim has always had a soft spot for his navigator even before they were properly introduced. The kid’s talent and genius was obvious at the beginning, saving Jim and Sulu when the entire transport team could not. Then he found out Chekov was only seventeen. It seemed that every time Jim learned something new about him, he felt he had more in common with him.

“Russian whiz kid”, “total genius”, and “youngest graduate in Starfleet history” were common descriptors when other people talked about Chekov. His navigation skills were unparalleled, allowing him the much coveted position for the mission to Vulcan in the first place. Yet his talent did not end there. 

Chekov had begun shadowing Scotty in engineering as often as possible, was proficient in weapons and security (Jim has said nothing to Chekov yet, but admiralty was beginning to speak of a promotion as weapons officer as an attachment to his duties as chief navigator), bragged about taking the same radio classes as Uhura, and was even trusted by Spock to take over the science station on the bridge while the commander was busy. Even Jim, who against all odds had managed to become captain of his own ship at twenty two after only three years at academy, wondered how Chekov had time to accumulate so much knowledge.

But with the positive came the negative.

It took Chekov years to prove himself. Admirals and high-ranking officers that had never worked with the young man doubted his ability, thinking someone so young could never handle such an important position. Even some of the other crew were wary of the young ensign, whispering to each other that there was no way Chekov could be just as brave, tough, and physically capable because of his young age and skinny body.

Jim knew a thing or two about being a genius doubted by everyone. But he respected the kid immensely for working his ass off to prove himself rather than drowning himself in sex and booze like Jim had at his age. 

Well… maybe that wasn’t exactly accurate.

The first time Bones had slammed a bottle of whiskey on his desk, claiming to have found and confiscated it from Chekov’s locker, Jim’s only surprise was that it wasn’t vodka. It wasn’t surprising that the kid just wanted to blow off some steam, even if it was technically illegal for any of them to have alcohol on the ship. 

It took some persuading, but Bones finally relented to drink some of the whiskey with Jim, and leave the rest with him. After their short drink and assuring his friend yet again that he would take care of everything, Jim grabbed the bottle and left his quarters. 

He tracked Chekov to a rec room where he was playing cards with Sulu and Scotty. Jim handed him the bottle, causing the Chekov to blush, and sat down next to him to watch the game.

Bones wouldn’t relent. The following week, Jim looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Bones hauling poor Chekov into his ready room, a murderous look on his face. 

“He’s too young, Jim.”

“But I am twenty-two. The legal drinking age in Russia is sixteen! My parents put vodka in my baby bottle!” Chekov argued to no avail.

This led to Chekov hiding his booze in more secure locations.

Jim started seeking out Chekov to talk to him more. He enjoyed his conversations with the young man. He did his best to encourage Chekov’s long-winded theories on everything from physics to engineering. Even his weird obsession with Russia was forgivable next to his quick wit and humor.

None of this, however, quite prepared Jim for the night his navigator knocked on his door and asked to speak with him.

Jim ushered the pale-faced, practically shaking Chekov into the room with a reassuring smile. He led him over to the table, still set from a round of chess games with Spock a few days before. Jim made sure Chekov sat before moving to a small cabinet where he hid his liquor and grabbed a bottle and two glasses.

Jim watched as Chekov took a worryingly large gulp from his glass as if trying to find courage in the curiously green liquid.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Chekov?” Jim asked, starting to fear something might be seriously wrong with the ensign from his total silence.

Chekov finished off his drink before folding his hands together and smiling nervously. “I am in need of advice. But it is embarrassing.”

Jim stayed silent, taking a sip and waiting for the young man to continue. 

“I was hoping to ask for… dating advice,” Chekov murmured the end under his breath.

Fighting back a smirk, Jim leaned forward. “Dating? Word around the ship is that you’re doing fine in that department.” Chekov had a reputation for being a bit of a flirt both on and off the ship. Jim remembered the incident where the young man had spent the entirety of a mission flirting with a young member of the species they were initiating contact with, and almost stumbled into a marriage ceremony with them. It had taken Uhura’s quick thinking to get them out of a very messy situation.

“Maybe, at least until they kick me out of their room and never speak to me again,” he grumbled, resting his chin on his folded hands. “I love to talk to new people. They are so nice. And if they happen to look nice as well, I can’t be at fault for enjoying that. But every time I suggest to… take things farther, everything goes wrong.”

“So when you say dating advice you really mean…” he trails off. Three years at academy, but no classes on having the sex talk with his navigator.

“More or less. I just want to know how you do it,” Chekov says, pushing his glass aside in order to lean forward and stare at Jim imploringly.

“How I do what?” Jim asked cautiously.

“How you get anyone you want to have sex with you!” The young man blushed, wincing as he realized what he had just said. “I mean- not like that! I just meant- I- I heard the stories of you at the academy and your reputation. No wait, not reputation, I mean- I should stop talking now, da?”

Jim choked down his laughter, knowing full well how much the poor kid had probably heard about him. Instead, Jim flashed him a flirtatious smile. Chekov blinked in confusion and returned his smile hesitantly.

“My reputation? You want me to want me to teach you how to get people to sleep with you? How to make them fall in love with you in a single night?” Jim’s grin now resembled a predatory animal.

“I could teach you how to sleep with every person that looks twice at you. How to drink until you are too numb to feel the punches when you get into fights at the bar. Do you want to learn all that too?” Jim wondered if he was going a little too far.

Chekov seemed to find his voice. “No sir. I just want to know how to stop fucking up when I get close to someone. It always ends with both of us hurting, and I don’t want that to happen anymore.”

Jim’s eyes widened at the admission. Now he felt a little bad about trying to scare the kid. Jim let himself relax. He wanted to do his best to help Chekov however he could.

“Well, I can’t help you much because every relationship is different. Is there anything you notice when things start to go wrong? Anything that’s different from what you normally do? Something that might freak the other person out?”

Chekov seemed to realize that his captain was done teasing him and sank back into his chair in relief. “I do not know. I know many people still think I am too young. Even though I am old enough now, they knew me in school when I was a teenager. The few people that seem to be willing to get to know me better become immediately put off as soon as I make any… moves. I just wish that I could make them see that I am an adult now.”

“What about potential partners off ship, when you’re on leave? People who didn’t know you as a teenager, who only know you as a strong, handsome Starfleet officer?” Jim asked.

“The same exact thing happens.” Chekov’s brows furrowed. “Maybe they think I am too young also. That’s why I need your help. Age never stopped people from wanting to get to know you better.”

Jim held up a hand to slow the kid down. Something still didn’t seem to be adding up. “Okay, what exactly happens? What are you usually doing when this happens?”

“I am not sure. Usually just talking. Not any more than I usually do, really.”

It was known that Chekov could get talkative at times. Jim could imagine the kid chattering nonstop rather than focusing on whoever he was with, but he doubted that would be the actual problem. In reality, Chekov was very attentive in conversation.

“What is it that you’re usually talking about?”

“You think it might be something I say? But it happens every time. Maybe there’s just something wrong with me,” Chekov said glumly.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jim assured him.

“You have seen me flirt, Captain. It is the usual topics of conversation.”

“Ah, like physics or items invented in Russia?” Jim asked, unable to fully suppress the chuckle that bubbled in his throat.

“Yes, exactly! But after a certain point, they begin to roll their eyes at me and eventually tell me to leave. Sometimes not so nicely.” Chekov ran his fingers through his curls. “Why do they laugh and smile when we begin talking, but after I try moving closer or even a kiss it becomes annoying? It is like they become different people!”  
Jim’s head tipped to the side. “Have you tried talking about them? Complimenting them?”

“Of course,” Chekov said. 

“What do you say, exactly?”

“Well, I told one person that I was very attracted to them and that by Newton’s laws of gravitation they must be attracted to me as well. Oh, and I told another that they must be made of copper and tellurium because they were cute.”

That was enough to break Jim’s calm, professional façade. He broke out into raucous laughter, unable to stop even at the look of the poor man’s incredulous and confused face.

“Captain?”

Jim struggled to contain his laughter and try to straighten his face once again. “I’m sorry, Ensign. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“So that is it. It is not my age, there is something wrong with me and what I say. But I still don’t understand,” Chekov said sadly.

Jim stood and moved to pat the kid’s shoulder. “I believe the problem isn’t you but your partners. You need to find someone who appreciates your attention and unique sense of humor.”

Chekov looked unsure, but his trust in his captain won out and he smiled. “Yes, sir. I will try that.”

“Good. And if that doesn’t work, I promise you can come back and we can develop a new tactic for you to try together.”

With another smile and a nod, Chekov stood and headed for the door. But Jim stopped him.

“One more thing, Ensign.”

Jim crossed to the other side of the room and pulled something out of one of the drawers in the wall. He moved back to Chekov and placed the container in his hand.

“Whether it’s drinking or sex or anything else, I want you to do it safely.”

Chekov blinked and fiddled awkwardly with the contraceptives, but nodded knowing the captain was serious. “Yes, sir.”

The young man moved to leave but stopped again to turn and face Jim.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anytime, Chekov. I’m always here to help,” Jim said with another pat on his shoulder and watched him leave.

Jim sat back down at his table, pouring himself another glass of the strange, green alcohol. He chuckled again to himself as he took a sip. He couldn’t wait to tell Bones this story.

 

2\. Bones

 

Jim has never had a chance to meet Bones’ daughter himself, but the man talked about Joanna as much as any father torn away from their child would, or at least should. The talking had a tendency to occur when Bones was extremely drunk and lamenting his existence. Jim learned a lot about the girl from these drunken ramblings.

The absolute worst of these occurrences, at least with Jim around, happened about six months after the two met. McCoy’s divorce was still a raw wound, and Jim hadn’t cut him off when he drank much more than his usual amount, hoping that it would help the man relax a little. In McCoy’s extremely inebriated state, he had talked about his daughter for three hours straight. He eventually passed out after vomiting up much more than he actually drank.

That night Jim learned that Joanna started reading just a few days after she turned two, earlier than either of her parents had started reading. Jim learned that her first word was ‘papa’ and Bones had teased Jocelyn about it for years. In fact, Jim learned so much about Joanna’s first six years of life in those drunken three hours that he felt like he had actually met the girl.

Of course it happened many more times, mostly while at the Academy and it was easier to sneak alcohol into their rooms, but never to such a degree as that night. But every single time made Jim’s heart ache for his best friend.

Bones loved Joanna with all his heart.

After all of that, Jim knew how important the day was for Bones. He had been through it with his friend for six years in a row now. But like the tough and macho man he liked to pretend he was, Bones went through his duties acting like it was any other day.

Joanna’s birthday. One of the few days each year that Bones was guaranteed to be able to talk to his daughter. Christmas wasn’t even a guarantee as Joanna had made a big girl decision not to celebrate it anymore. Bones could usually convince her to allow him to send her presents though.

Despite the uncaring mask he knew the doctor would wear throughout the day, Jim swore he could feel Bones freaking out internally all the way in the med bay. He wished he could comfort his friend, or speed up time so that he could talk to Joanna that much sooner, but he knew he could do neither no matter how hard he tried.

“Captain.” Jim looked over to Uhura’s station at her call, “I’m not receiving any communications from off the ship. Exo coms are offline.”

“How long until coms are back, Lieutenant?” he asked calmly.

“Uncertain, sir. Communications is having trouble identifying the problem. Engineering has been called to help, but have nothing further to report yet.”

“Thank you. Keep me posted on the progress,” Jim ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Uhura confirmed before turning back to her console.

Jim sighed and slumped a bit in his chair. He wished he could be surprised at such awful luck, but it was par for the course next to the many mishaps the crew had had. He just hoped it would be repaired before he would have to tell Bones. Joanna’s call was cleared to be passed through in two hours.

It took a better part of one of those hours for engineering and communications to locate the problem. Jim couldn’t quite keep himself from glaring at the poor ensign delegated to deliver the news that exo coms would be down for the whole night. He did manage to keep his mouth shut until the crewman left his ready room to curse loudly and bury his face in his hands.

Waiting through the rest of his shift was horrible. Jim could feel the confused looks from the crew at his foul mood, but he ignored them. He focused on his work, filling out and signing reports, moving back to the bridge while Sulu and Chekov navigated the ship through a dense asteroid field, but all he wanted to do was sprint down to med bay as quickly as his feet could carry him to comfort his best friend.

Almost three hours later, alpha shift was finally over. He forced himself to walk at a calm pace to the turbo lift, taking it to med bay. Jim dreaded what he would find.  
Entering the main room, Jim nodded as he passed Nurse Chapel on his way to Bones’ office. She sent him a sad glance in return, letting him know he was about to walk in on a mess. He knocked on the office door, but wasn’t surprised when there was no response. He slowly tapped in his captain’s override to unlock the door and entered hesitantly. Bones had a tendency to throw bottles when surprised if too far gone, whether the bottle was empty or not. 

Instead of the angry ranting in a Southern drawl, too thick and slurred to really understand properly, Jim found his friend slumped almost horizontally in his desk chair. He could see tears streaming down the man’s face. Jim moved closer to the desk and saw in one of the doctor’s hands was an old holo of a young girl, thankfully seeming to be more important to the man than the forgotten bottle of what looked like Romulan ale dangling from his other hand.

“Bones?” Jim asked quietly, letting his left hand press flat against the top of the desk in front of him, keeping it as a barrier between them in case the tears turned to rage.

McCoy didn’t acknowledge him directly, but Jim could tell that he knew he was there by the way his grip shifted on the bottle. Jim decided to risk inching around the desk, closer to his friend. He moved his hand to the man’s shoulder, but said nothing more. If Bones wanted to talk, he would do so in his own time. Any prompting or pushing from Jim would usually only silence him or piss him off, again to the point of throwing things, in this state.

After a long pause and a few tiny sighing sounds, Bones leaned just enough to let the bottle slip from his fingers without spilling any liquid. He turned his head toward Jim where he was perched on the desk in front of him, but didn’t look in his eyes.

“Jim,” Bones whispered, looking back to the holo of his daughter.

It was enough to break the barrier and assure Jim that no harm would come to him. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around the older man to pull him close. 

They never hugged like this when Bones was sober, but Jim knew how much he was hurting and how badly he needed the comfort he would never be able to ask for.  
Bones’ body started shaking gently, and Jim could hear wet sniffs and choked off sobs from the face buried in his chest. He rubbed a hand across the man’s back and murmured comforting words without remembering any of them once they left his mouth. 

It took some time, but Bones finally calmed down again. Jim held him a little longer anyway. As much as he hated that the man was hurting, he did love how close the two of them were able to be in these moments. 

“She’s thirteen, Jim. She’s lived more than half her life without me now. It’s been seven years since I’ve gotten to hold her, to look into her eyes. I missed seven goddamn years of her life.”

Jim let him talk as long as he needed, even when half of it was too slurred to understand.

When they pulled apart, Jim gripped the man’s shoulders tightly. “Let’s get those old bones of yours to bed,” he whispered softly. 

Jim stood first in order to pick up the bottle of Romulan ale and track down and replace the stopper in the top. He hid it at the top of a tall cabinet for Bones to put away properly the next day. He turned back to the man, holding out his hands to help the man out of his chair.

It took both of their combined efforts to haul Bones to his feet. Once standing, Jim thought for a moment that the man would get sick, but he instead seemed to get a second wind. Bones smoothed out his face and stood straight. If Jim didn’t already know, he would have to squint to see that Bones was completely sloshed. It would at least make it easier to get Bones back to his quarters.

He peeked out the door into the med bay, but saw no one. Nurse Chapel must have had the sense to get out of there, helping Bones keep some of his dignity. 

They made it to Bones’ quarters without too many crewmen giving them odd looks, but when Jim moved away to open the door, Bones started to slump again. Jim practically carried his friend inside. He moved to lay the man down in his bed, but Bones grunted “bathroom” before he could. Apparently he had been right earlier about him drinking enough to be sick. He quickly steered them to the toilet.

Thankfully, Bones fell asleep almost as soon as Jim tucked him under the covers.

Instead of walking the short distance to his own quarters for the night and collapsing into bed like any sane person would do, Jim turned and took the turbolift up to the bridge.

There, he found Scotty hunched underneath the com station, grunting and cursing as he tinkered away (causing most of the gamma shift crew to stare at him in shock and horror). Jim crossed over to the man, nodding to the others that noticed him passing.

“Mr. Scott, report,” Jim commanded.

Scotty jerked upright, hitting his head on the machinery above him and causing him to let out another string of expletives.

“Warn a man before you give him a heart attack,” the engineer glared at him while rubbing the back of his head.

Jim smiled apologetically and knelt next to the man to peer into the section underneath the console that Scotty had opened to work in.

“Well, sir, the unit most likely took a hit during our last flight with the Klingons. It lasted long enough to send a transmission to Starfleet command as protocol, and then went kaput. I can fix it, but it’s going to take all night.”

Jim nodded, having guessed most of it already. “Anything I can help with?”

He knew that, like himself, Scotty had been awake and working since alpha shift that morning and had to be exhausted. But one didn’t become the best engineer in Starfleet without becoming best friends with all nighters. Jim just hoped that if he helped, Scotty would actually be able to catch a few hours of sleep that night.

Scotty looked Jim over, as if assessing Jim’s capability, before nodding. “Aye, lad. Grab that over there and help me down here.”

Engineering wasn’t Jim’s strongest subject. He could hack computers without blinking an eye, but when it came to building and fixing the machines, Jim knew only the basics. He tried to understand as Scotty explained everything he did, but between the man’s excitement over the machine and his tendency to get distracted easily, Jim mostly failed. He was, however, able to help enough to make a difference and he didn’t feel too badly about that.

It did, however, take even longer than Scotty predicted to finish. Jim was shocked to realize that they were only two hours away from the beginning of alpha shift. Scotty gave him a tired nod and thanked him before making his way to the turbolift, no doubt heading back to engineering rather than attempting a quick nap. Jim stayed at the com station a little longer, sending out a short message. He hoped that the ship was still close enough to make it to its destination in time.

Yawning widely, Jim decided to head back down to Bones’ quarters to check on the man before grabbing a quick breakfast and starting his shift early. He quietly unlocked the door and looked into the bedroom. Bones was snoring loudly, right where he left him. Jim smiled fondly and moved further inside. 

He moved around as silently as possible in the room, setting out a glass of water and a hypospray containing what Jim lovingly called Bones’ miracle hangover cure on the stand next to the man’s bed. Jim smiled as he also placed a PADD close to Bones’ head, an alarm set to scream at the loudest setting possible in one hour and set to immediately receive the response to Jim’s message.

Four cups of coffee later, Jim was delighted to see his best friend march onto the bridge without his usual grumpy demeanor. Bones came straight to him, eyeing his mug of coffee with disapproval.

“Jocelyn told me that you explained everything to her. She let me talk to Jo before she left for school and I’ll get three more hours to talk to her after my shift,” Bones explained without a greeting.

Jim smiled happily.

“Thanks, Jim.”

“Don’t mention it, Bones.”

“Believe me, I won’t.” Bones flashed him a grin.

Jim took another sip of his coffee, knowing his friend was too happy to scold him for it today.

 

3\. Sulu

 

The static, claustrophobic feeling of being trapped aboard a ship flying through the unknown with no clear route was blanketing the crew. It started subtly, anxious tapping and drumming of fingers during long shifts on the bridge, long sighs over replicated meals in the mess hall, but Jim’s observant eyes made the feelings of his crew quite clear.

Everyone did their best to keep morale around the ship up as best they could. A ship wide favorite was Uhura and Spock’s impromptu musical performances in the rec rooms (though Jim suspected the sessions were planned thoroughly weeks beforehand by the Vulcan). Little things like that kept people distracted, temporarily content. But it couldn’t truly defeat the boredom, the restlessness, and the ache of missing families left behind.

So the morning Jim made his rounds on the bridge at the start of one shift to see a picture of Sulu’s daughter Demora stuck onto his console, he remained silent on the matter. Though the picture blocked several buttons on the console and was clearly a violation that should be reported and reprimanded, Jim allowed it to stay. Jim was confident that Sulu wouldn’t have put the picture in such a place unless he truly needed it. He also had complete faith that it would not affect the pilot’s performance negatively.

There was a moment of worry when Jim saw his First Officer’s eyebrow quirk when he noticed the display. He knew Spock’s fickleness about regulation. If he were to issue an official complaint, Jim would be forced to act. He quickly caught Spock’s eye, trying to silently plead for the Vulcan to leave the matter alone. Spock nodded once and walked away without a word.

Everyone had their own ways to help make the ship feel a little more homelike, or at least make the monotony a bit more bearable. It was this feeling that prompted Jim to start bringing a warm mug of coffee to the bridge to get him through his morning shifts. 

No one said a word about the picture on Sulu’s console.

Even before his time on the Enterprise, Jim encountered many nights where he couldn’t sleep, only becoming more and more frequent as time went by and missions went dangerously awry. Either insomnia kept him from falling all the way asleep while his tense body jerked him awake from the light dozes he managed every few minutes or he was jarred awake with a silent scream from nightmares of his past (Kodos slaughtering his friends and neighbors, stopping mid warp to a screen filled with broken pieces of Starfleet ships, feeling the radiation sinking and burning its way through his body as he looks into Spock’s eyes one last time…) that left him breathless, nauseated, and unwilling to attempt going back to sleep.

This time it was a nightmare about not being able to convince Pike to stop the Enterprise, watching from afar as the ship and everyone he had grown to care about was blown to bits with all the others by Nero’s unforgiving attack. Jim woke gasping and clutching the sheets tightly. Adrenaline rushed through his body and his gut clenched painfully, but his tired aching body forced him to lie paralyzed as it gathered the strength to wake up fully. 

Jim tried to stay in bed, but was unable to calm his restless mind. He pulled himself to his feet and found some clothes to slip on. Jim hoped that a walk around the ship would tire him out enough to catch a few more hours of sleep before his morning shift. 

Jim wandered around the ship aimlessly, avoiding the turbolift as often as possible to avoid the silence and pressure that came with standing still, even just for those short moments. He eventually found himself at the door to the observation deck.

The observation deck was one of Jim’s favorite places on the ship, especially on nights like this when he couldn’t sleep. He enjoyed just sitting comfortably in front of the view screen and watching the stars drift by. It was relaxing and Jim could lose himself in the feeling of being so small and insignificant in comparison to the stars and planets the ship passed. He went inside with a soft smile.

The quiet sound of someone shifting made Jim freeze in his tracks. He glanced around the room until he located Sulu sitting on the floor close to a viewscreen, ignoring the bench and chairs scattered around the room. Rather than the outside of the ship, the screen was set to show an image of Yorktown. Jim briefly wondered if the man had learned how to hack into the system to show a real-time image from the space station outside Yorktown, probably from Chekov. He dismissed the thought, deciding that the less he knew, the better.

“Can’t sleep, Lieutenant?” Jim called softly, still standing by the door.

Sulu jumped, whirling around to stare at Jim in shock before relaxing slightly.

“No, sir.”

“Me neither. Mind if I sit with you?”

Sulu shrugged and turned back to the screen. Jim decided to also forgo the furniture and sat on the floor by the other man, leaving a few feet of personal space between them. They sat in silence, staring at the smooth white lines of Yorktown base.

“They moved all the way to Yorktown just to be closer to me. But they’re still so far away,” Sulu whispered.

Jim wasn’t sure if he should respond or not. He was glad Sulu was initiating contact with him, a subtle way of asking to open up to Jim. But the struggle between wanting his crew to feel like a family and needing to keep a level of professionalism as captain drew a fine line for him to walk sometimes. This was much more personal than giving Chekov dating advice. He really should refer Sulu to Bones, or anyone who had the knowledge to talk about such deep and personal matters. But Jim refused to leave the man hanging, knowing that someone in his family needed help and was reaching out to him.

“It helps them, knowing that you’re that much closer.” Jim paused a moment, giving Sulu a moment to change his mind. “When I was little, my mom was never around on Earth. She was always on another mission, hardly bothering to call my brother and I once a month. I always wished that she would try to be just a little closer. At least this way you can make sure they know how much you love them and how hard you try to be as close to them as you can.”

He heard a sniffle from Sulu’s direction, but kept his eyes firmly on the large, floating city in front of him.

“I just don’t want Demiko to ever think I don’t want to be there with her. I don’t want her to grow up thinking I’m selfish for choosing my job over her. What if she grows up to hate me for not being there for her?”

Jim clears his throat softly. “You’re not the only parent in Starfleet, you know. Even if she doesn’t understand right now, she will in the future. Maybe she will end up at Starfleet Academy because she feels the same need to be out in the black as her father.” Jim looked over to smile at the man. “Command track, of course.”

Sulu chuckled. Jim noted that he was already visibly more relaxed than when he first came in.

“So tell me about her. I’ve only seen pictures, and I never hear nearly enough about her,” Jim prompted.

Sulu easily launched into stories about his small family, some of which Jim had heard before and some he hadn’t. Sulu told him how they registered for artificial surrogacy as a celebration of their third anniversary and less than a year later were able to bring their beautiful baby girl home. He told Jim how terrified he was that his career in Starfleet would hinder his and Ben’s ability to raise a child and how Ben convinced him to take the leap anyway because he was confident Hikaru would be an amazing father. Sulu never regretted it for a second, no matter how hard it was not being able to see his family every day.

Jim relaxed but listened attentively as the pilot talked, occasionally sharing his own stories even though he couldn’t compare much to Sulu’s life. He was glad Sulu was able to get so much off his chest and truly enjoyed listening the man’s stories, both the happy and the sad.

Before either of them realized, it was only an hour away from alpha shift. Sulu stood beside him and yawned widely, playfully holding his hands out to help Jim up as well.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t think I’ve talked like that since back at the Academy. I guess I kinda needed it,” Sulu scratched the back of his neck self-consciously.

Jim smiled brightly at him, not willing to allow the professional screen of ranking ruin such a bonding moment quite yet. “Anytime, Lieutenant. My door is always open. And I have the authority to confiscate Bones’ bourbon stash if we need it.

Sulu laughed. “Looking forward to it, sir.”

They left the room and shared a turbolift back to their rooms, finally going their separate ways to get ready for work. Jim took a moment to look at his empty room and feel first a pang of regret and loneliness, only to be chased away by a warm feeling of contentment. He really was looking forward to talking to Sulu again.

 

4\. Scotty

 

Jim was aware that he was much more involved with his ship’s workings than most other captains in Starfleet. Most kept to their administrative and command duties, but Jim tended to check in personally with all the departments and lend a hand with anything he could while he was there. Though it was very possible that this came from his lack of interest in paperwork and boring, endless meetings with admiralty.

It had been some time since Jim had been able to make his way down to the engine room. There had been a horrendous amount of paperwork flooding in to his office for the past week or two. Between medical and damage reports from last week when a strange, conical ship fired on them and the engineering reports on reparations to many of the below decks that could be handled before they made it to the next Starfleet base, Jim hadn’t been able to do much else. 

“Lieutenant, I’ll be in engineering. Let me know if Ambassador The’a messages back,” Jim told the Communications officer replacing Uhura as Beta shift started. It was unlikely there would be a message, Jim had been waiting for it for almost a week now.

“Yes, sir,” the replied followed him as he entered the turbolift. 

Jim always had a good time among the engines with his friend. There was something about getting down and dirty with the machines that distracted from the tediousness of work on the bridge. He was sure that played a part in Scotty spending as much time in the engine room and off the bridge as possible. Not to mention Scotty had a way of convincing Jim to have a few drinks with him whenever he visited. 

Navigating the complex structure of stairs, landings, and the occasional moveable ladder, Jim finally found the bottom level where Scotty’s office was located. Keenser was just outside the door, perched precariously on what looked like a large pile of old parts. 

“Hey, Keenser. Scotty around?”

The Roylan nodded his head towards the office. Jim thanked him and ducked inside the room.

“Scotty?” he called out, not seeing his friend.

A loud crash echoed in the small room. Jim could hear Scotty cursing somewhere behind a large desk completely covered in machinery in various stages of repair and many piles of PADDs. A moment later, Scotty’s head poked up from underneath the desk, glaring at the captain.

“Ach, would you stop doing that, sir? My heart can only take so much these days.”

Jim tried to look apologetic rather than curious as to why the man seemed to be hiding behind his desk. 

“Your heart is fine, Scotty. You’re not that much older than I am,” Jim chuckled.

“Aye, but that just means we’re both getting old.” Scotty waved his arm vaguely in the direction of the only uncluttered chair in the office, his way of offering Jim a seat. “Unfortunately, that was my last bottle of scotch that just broke. All I can offer ye is some tea.”

The men took a moment of silence to lament the waste of good booze before Scotty turned to his office’s replicator to make tea.

“So, how is everything going here in Engineering, Scotty? It’s been awhile since I’ve had time to visit.” Jim thanked Scotty as he was handed a cup of tea and took a careful sip. He watched as the man cleared off a space on his desk to sit while carefully balancing his full cup of tea. 

Once seated, Scotty fixed him with a half-hearted smile. “Everything is running as smoothly as they can until we stop for real repairs.”

Something sounded off with his tone. Jim studied the man, noticing the dark circles ringing underneath Scotty’s eyes from lack of sleep. Scotty’s knuckles were almost white from a tense grip on the small teacup. He remembered how Keenser had been sitting outside the office and Scotty hiding under his desk when he had come in. He wondered how to approach the issue without making Scotty defensive.

Jim set his teacup on the floor, ignoring the fact that it was still full and leaned forward in his chair. “Talk to me, Scotty,” he said simply.

Though the two men weren’t as close to each other as Jim was with Bones and Scotty (usually) was with Keenser, they still could talk openly with each other when they needed to. Though usually they had a drink in hand to do so. Jim, however, hoped that Scotty trusted him enough as both a friend and captain to be able to talk to him sober.

Scotty sighed and his face dropped into a sad frown. Somehow he looked even more tired than he had before. “Everything’s fine, Jim. I’m just short staffed and running myself ragged with these repairs. A good chunk of the staff is still recovering in med bay and I have to make sure the ship makes it to the next Starbase. I don’t think I’ve ever been so busy in my life. Even that would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that I keep calling for ensigns to help me before remembering filing paperwork for their deaths in the line of duty not a month before. And then…” Scotty’s hands shook around the teacup. Seeing the engineer’s usually steady hands shake made Jim’s worry skyrocket. 

“And?” he prompted softly.

“Nay, it’s not important. Especially compared to everything else.”

Jim ventured an easy guess. “Fighting with Keenser again?”

Whatever dam had been holding back Scotty’s emotions seemed to burst at the question.

“The damn wee man can be so bloody infuriating. Nagging me about this and that, climbing on every bloody surface on the ship.” Scotty was almost yelling.

Jim wondered if Keenser was still sitting outside the office and could hear Scotty’s tirade through the door,

“I just want to punt his wee head across the engine room. I- “ 

Scotty’s description of his coworker’s demise was interrupted by a timid knock and the door opening. A young ensign in a red shirt poked his head in.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but there’s a problem with the plasma injectors. I think Ensign Andrews installed them wrong, but we can’t figure out how to fix it.”

The ensign visibly flinched and ducked back out of the room at the sight of Scotty’s tomato red face, the vein in his forehead looking ready to explode.

Watching the scene made Jim feel awful for not talk to Scotty sooner and completely missing the utter turmoil his friend was going through. It was his job to make sure his entire crew was happy and healthy. It was obvious that Scotty was neither. Jim reached out to squeeze Scotty’s shoulder, hoping to soothe him a bit.

“Plasma injectors, huh?” Jim asked.

Scotty took a deep breath, visibly attempting to calm down.

“Aye, I best go fix them. Again.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Captain, you don’t have to- “ 

Jim cut him off. “I know.”

Scotty paused and eventually nodded, knowing Jim well enough to see that arguing would be pointless. He reached to the other side of the desk to grab a few tools and gestured for Jim to follow him out of the office. Jim realized that Keenser was no longer outside the door.

The men settled themselves where they could reach the plasma injectors in the warp core. Jim handed Scotty tools as he asked for them. They both knew he was really there to let Scotty vent to him.

“…So I decided to hide in my office and drink that bottle of scotch I found hidden in a Jeffries Tube. I’m assuming it’s Chekov’s. Poor lad is running out of places to hide his booze from the doctor.”

Jim let out a laugh. He was sure that Chekov could get pretty creative if he needed to. 

It took them a few hours to take out and reinstall the parts. When they emerged from the engine room, Jim realized they had missed dinner. He was hungry but Scotty had to be starving since he never eats breakfast and probably missed lunch as well.

“What do you say to heading up to my quarters and grabbing some food and booze. I figure after all of this, you’ve earned it.”

“Aye, that sounds nice right about now.”

The two headed up to the turbolift together. They passed Keenser on the way, who carefully avoided looking at them. Jim smiled, confident that the two friends would make up by tomorrow, if their fights in the past were anything to go by. He slapped Scotty on the back, flashing him a wide grin. 

He felt a bit proud of himself when Scotty smiled back.

 

5\. Uhura

 

With all the craziness happening on the ship, Jim hadn’t been able to spend any time with Spock off duty for weeks. It felt more like months to him. Normally Jim would never admit out loud exactly how important his first officer was to him, but he really missed Spock.

It took Jim and Spock months to relax around each other and have normal interactions not clouded by enmity or pissing contests after the Narada incident. But once they became friends (even if it seemed like Spock would never actually agree to such a title) they also became close to one another.

Jim couldn’t stand not seeing his friend much longer and pulled Spock aside during their next shift. He asked Spock if he was up for dinner in Jim’s quarters that night, followed by a few games of chess. Though they both still had tons of paperwork to finish, Jim figured they could both use some time to unwind. To his pleasant surprise, Spock readily agreed.

At 18:00, Jim set out the meals he had replicated that suited both Spock’s vegetarian diet as well as Jim’s preference for food with flavor (read: not Plomeek soup). He stared at the dishes and silverware set out on the table, wondering why the table looked so bland and boring. Somewhere in the back of his mind Jim wondered if he should have asked Sulu for some nice flowers to set out.

The door broke Jim out of his spinning head as it relayed Spock’s request for admittance, allowing the thoughts of lighting candles to disappear. He moved forward quickly to let Spock in.

“Spock! Great to see you. Thanks for joining me tonight,” Jim greeted, ushering Spock into the room with a strange formality despite Spock having been in his quarters countless times before.

“Though your gratitude is unnecessary, I must admit that I find spending time with you to be stimulating and pleasant. Though I am concerned about the reports that you are ignoring by dining with me this evening.” Spock sat comfortably in the seat Jim waved him towards.

Jim sat across from Spock, rolling his eyes fondly at his friend’s gentle nagging. “I’ll be able to catch up just fine. I made sure to check before I asked you to come.”

“I trust you with decisions concerning running the ship, Jim.”

Jim ignored the warmth that spread through his body, partly at the sound of his name on the Vulcan’s lips and partly due to Spock’s utter faith in his abilities as a captain.

“Well, I’m starving. Let’s eat!”

They ate their meal, chatting companionably throughout and keeping conversation topics light. When they finished, Spock helped Jim clear the table to make room for the 3D chessboard. Jim allowed Spock to set up the pieces while re replicated them both hot mugs of tea.

They enjoyed one game without incident, Spock capturing Jim’s king after a well-timed sacrifice of a pawn. At the start of the second game, Jim asked an innocent question that received an unexpected answer.

“So how are you and Uhura doing?”

Spock looked up from where he had been contemplating Jim’s radical move with his bishop.

“I had wrongfully assumed that you had known, I apologize for not informing you sooner. Lieutenant Uhura and I ended our arrangement.” Spock lowered his eyes back to the board.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Spock. Are you okay?”

“It is of no matter, Jim.” Spock still wouldn’t look at him.

“Okay…” Jim was reluctant to let the matter go. He wanted to assure Spock that he could come to Jim to talk about any of it if he needed, but wasn’t sure if that could be offensive to the Vulcan. Jim forced himself to change the topic again and tried to focus on the game.

The next day, Jim did feel better. He always felt good after spending a night alone with Spock. But Spock’s news was still bothering him. He decided that he should talk to Uhura. After all, she was his friend as well, and Jim wanted to make sure she was doing okay.

Jim waited until after their shift to talk to Uhura, but still found himself sneaking peeks at the woman with her head bent over the comm station, watching for signs of sadness or hurt, especially whenever Spock spoke directly to her. Of course, Jim couldn’t find anything. The woman was too professional to let something in her personal life affect her work.

He found her later in an empty rec room, sitting at a table and staring sadly at her PADD.

“Hey. Can I sit with you?” He asked her gently.

She gave him a funny look but nodded her assent. 

“So I heard about what happened. I know there’s not really much I can do, but you’re my friend and I just wanted to let you know that I’m here for you. Even if it’s just to talk.” He reached out to grab her hand, concerned when she didn’t pull it away with a smirk as she usually would’ve done.

“Jim, that’s really sweet of you. I’m surprised you heard so quickly, but it’s always nice to have a friend when something like this happens,” Uhura told him, still a little shocked.

Jim flashed her a bright smile. “I’m always here to help.”

Uhura chuckled. “Yes, I know. It just kind of sucks, you know? Mari is just about to start school and the doctor says he’s going to have to stay home for at least a month. It’s shitty timing to get so sick.”

Jim blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly in confusion. “Wait, what? Mari? Kamari? Your nephew?”

“Yeah. He has Arethian flu. What were you talking about?”

“Spock told me last night that you two broke up. He was doing that Vulcan thing where he wouldn’t talk about emotional things. I figured if that was how he was taking it, that I should see if I could do anything for you.” Jim started feeling a little ridiculous. He wondered where exactly he started to go wrong in this situation. “I’m totally missing something here.”

Uhura shook her head in exasperation. “Jim, Spock and I broke up months ago. How did you not notice?”

“I…” Jim wasn’t sure how he didn’t notice. It was his job to notice. He had a tendency not to look to closely at Spock and Uhura’s relationship. Sometimes it hurt too much to think about. But he still should have noticed. Didn’t that mean he failed?

Jim felt Uhura squeeze his hand. He focused on her again, taking in her gentle smile.

“It’s okay. Everything is okay. It was a mutual break up. We wanted different things and we decided it was time to end things. We’re still friends. And you know we would never let it affect our working relationship,” she assured him. It did make him feel a little better about things.

“I’m sorry,” Jim still felt like an ass. “And I’m sorry about your nephew. What I said before still applies. I’m here for you if you need me.”

“I’ll be okay, Jim.” Uhura pulled her hand back and looked back down at her PADD. “But if you want, you can help me with this Klingon translation.”

Jim snorted. They both knew his Klingon was shit. But he took the offer for what it was and slid his seat closer to hers to look over the PADD.

It was nice. He hardly ever got to spend any one on one time with the woman. She had gotten over any animosity towards him long ago, and they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company, but they never seemed to find the time. Jim let himself relax and enjoy it.

They were eventually joined by Scotty, Chekov, Sulu, and a few other crewman who were apparently placing bets on a card game challenge between Scotty and Chekov. Jim nodded his head in their direction until Uhura sighed in mock frustration and nodded back. They turned to the game. Jim good naturedly bet a box of Andorian chocolates on Chekov, much to Scotty’s dismay.

There was lots of laughter that night, and some tears when Scotty lost the last hand of the game. Jim had a feeling Chekov would spend a few nights down in engineering, teasing poor Scotty by eating the Andorian chocolates in front of him and maybe sharing a few with Keenser just to really make the man steam. Jim laughed at the thought.

He really did love his crew.

 

+1. Spock

 

It had been days since Jim had gotten a proper night of rest. After an incident that involved several good crewmen losing their lives as well as many more injured, Jim was left with hours of paperwork intermingled with hours of talking to admirals and Starfleet officials. It made Jim too stressed to make it through more than an hour or two of sleep each night.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and Jim highly doubted it would be the last. Occupational hazard of being a Starship captain. 

Another unfortunate side effect was Bones constantly nagging at him and threatening with various hyposprays to knock him out. Jim was able to talk him down, convincing the doctor that passing out would only make it more difficult to deal with everything.

Now that everything was dealt with and the Starfleet officials were off his back, Jim hoped that he would be able to finally relax and get some sleep. But when he snuggled under the covers that night, he found himself tossing and turning, nowhere near sleep despite his exhaustion.

He sighed and pulled himself out of bed. He could walk around the ship and hope that the gentle hum of the Enterprise engines might soothe him.  
Jim reluctantly tugged his clothes back on and headed out of his room. He wandered aimlessly around the ship, unable to realx.

“Captain? What are you doing out of bed at this hour?”

Jim about jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He turned quickly to see his first officer striding towards him. His heart beat quickly and his chest and throat tingled from the shock. Jim would have to remember to apologize again to Scotty for doing this to him so often.

He forced his body to calm and smiled at the Vulcan.

“Spock! I could say the same to you.”

“I have just finished a research project in the Science Lab and was returning to my room to meditate,” Spock informed him smoothly.

“Ah, I see. What were you researching?” he asked curiously, leaning his hip against the wall next to him and focusing on Spock’s answer.

“I was gathering data on the peculiar rock formation we found on the class M planet four days ago. It seems to contain an unusual amount of sulfur compared to the location in which it was found.”

Jim nodded, following.

“You are attempting to avoid my previous query,” Spock pointed out.

“Not avoiding, just interested in your work,” Jim lied.

Spock said nothing.

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to try taking a walk to help calm me down.”

“Is something disturbing you, Captain?” Spock asked.

“No. Just a little stressed from this week. I’ll be okay,” Jim smiled. If he didn’t know better, be would think that Spock was worried about him.

“Human adults require 7.5 to 9 hours of sleep for optimal performance. As Captain, it is important for you to function to the best of your ability,” Spock nagged him (though he wouldn’t use that term himself. Spock would probably say he was merely stating facts).

“Yes, Spock, Bones has already given me the lecture.” Spock opened his mouth to argue at this wording but Jim continued. “I just need to relax a bit and I’ll be fine.”  
Spock’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and his head tilted. 

“Spock?”

“I believe I can assist you, if you should permit it,” Spock explained.

“Help me relax?” Jim wouldn’t admit to the images that flashed through his mind at the idea.

“It would be best for us to return to your quarters to do so.”

Jim was still a bit stunned at the Vulcan’s offer but shrugged. What the hell. He allowed Spock to lead him back to his room, entering in his code when Spock stepped back.

They entered together. Jim felt a bit awkward and wasn’t completely sure what Spock wanted him to do. He turned around to look at him questioningly.

“If you would like, we can proceed to your bedroom. It will be easier this way when you fall asleep.”

“When? You’re pretty sure of yourself there, Spock. You have a secret I don’t know about?” Jim headed towards the bedroom but kept his eyes on Spock just to smirk at him.

“Vulcans do not keep secrets,” Spock informed him in his monotone voice, but the twinkle in his eye perked Jim’s interest.

“Sure.” He smiled again.

“You should lie down on the bed.”

Jim looked up hesitantly. “I usually sleep in my underwear. Is that cool with you?”

“I have seen you undressed before, Jim. Your anxiety is unnecessary,” Spock said evenly.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’m stripping. You happy?”

Spock chose not to dignify the taunt. Instead he moved to sit on the bed.

The sight of Spock in his bed, even just sitting on the edge, made Jim pause in taking off his pants. He had no idea what exactly Spock was planning to do. If Jim’s body reacted to Spock, as it had in the past more times than Jim would ever admit, his underwear would do nothing to hide it. 

“Jim?”

God, Spock saying his name. In his bed.

Jim forced himself to focus. He finished stripping and practically dove beneath the covers. 

“Alright, Spock. Now what?” he asked.

“Now, you relax.”

Spock slowly reached out, stopping his fingers close to Jim’s face, near what Jim now knew were his psi points. It took him a second to realize Spock was silently asking for permission. He nodded.

An involuntary gasp escaped from his throat at the feeling of Spock’s warm fingers on his face. He bit his lip, trying to control himself. He waited to feel the connection he felt in the meld with the other Spock but felt nothing. He realized Spock wasn’t melding with him.

Slowly, as if slipping into a warm pool of water, Jim felt the tension ease in his shoulders, down to his arms and back. 

Jim moaned, not caring now how it might seem. “Oh, how are you doing that?”

Realizing his eyes has slipped closed at some point, Jim opened them to look at the Vulcan again. It looked like the tips of his ears and cheeks were tinged green but it might’ve just been the lighting.

“I am essentially commanding your muscles to relax. This is what you wanted, yes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Jim moaned again. “Wait, hold on.”

Spock withdrew his fingers, looking worried that he had done something wrong. Jim reluctantly flipped onto his stomach, moving his arm underneath his pillow the way he liked to sleep.

“Okay I’m good. Are you okay with… can you keep going?” Jim asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Jim.”

Spock’s hand reconnected and immediately Jim’s muscles were relaxing. The feeling was amazing. It was everything you get from a massage but without the touching. Even the tiny muscles in his fingers and toes felt lighter.

His eyes had closed again. Jim could feel himself sink into the bed. He had never felt anything this incredible in his life.

And then Spock started touching him.

The hand that wasn’t already on his face began to trail lightly down his back with its fingertips. The touch was so light, Jim was sure he was imagining it at first. But the touch continued, moving across his broad shoulders like it was on an exploratory mission of its own. 

“Spock,” he whispered, not having the strength to do more.

“Jim?” Spock answered, not stopping but instead moving up to his neck.

“Stay. Please.”

Spock’s fingers withdrew from his face. Jim began to protest, but stopped immediately when he felt the Vulcan settled down next to him, one hand continuing to stroke his back.

“Sleep now, Jim.”

As he drifted off, Jim imagined that he felt a slight pressure on the back of his neck, more like lips than fingertips. He fell asleep before he could give it another thought.


End file.
